by Mark Nolan
“Well now I feel so much better with that comforting news. Death no longer holds any fear or regret for me.”
“You are very amusing. Tell your friends that if Congressman Anderson tries to get on a flight to Washington, I will kill him, no matter what. I guarantee that.”
“What about the photojournalist who is causing problems?”
“Stalin said that death solves all problems; no man, no problem. If Wolfe gets in my way again I’ll start killing his family and friends, one by one, until no one is left alive. I already know where his parents and his sister live. I know the school where his friend Alicia works as a teacher. And I know where police inspector Beth Cushman lives with her young son. There are many ways to get to Wolfe.”
“I’ll pass that information along to the rest of The Council, but in the future we want you to let us know your plans so there are no surprises.”
“You can assure the Council that I want the same results that they want. I’ve invested my own money, betting on their desired outcome. I’m not stupid, I figured out why you want to tamper with what the Congressman is doing in Washington. I’ll be profiting from the results in the same way you will.”
Banks used a silk handkerchief to mop his brow. This Russian fellow was too smart for his own good. If The Council learned that he’d uncovered their secret plan, they’d have him killed immediately. “I’ll hold off telling The Council that for now.”
Zhukov laughed. “Yes, I imagine that’s something you’ve never heard from one of your hired guns.”
“Quite so, I’m afraid,” Banks said and he ended the call.
Chapter 81
In an alley behind a tourist bar near the Wharf, a well-hidden CCTV camera recorded video of a black limousine stopping and picking up a tall man and a golden-haired dog. The video was sent electronically to the police station computer system. It came to immediate attention because it included a tall male Caucasian and a dog that appeared to be in the Labrador retriever category.
Kirby saw the camera footage and he said, “Denton, we’ve got something on video near the Wharf.”
Denton stopped pacing and looked at the computer. “That’s Wolfe, get a car over there.”
“That looks to me like a blind man and his guide dog.”
“Just the kind of clever trick a criminal like Wolfe would use. That’s him, I can smell him. Did we get his face on the camera? Let’s run it through the facial recognition software.”
“No he was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, and he kept his head down and never looked up.”
“What about the license plate?”
“It isn’t clear. It seems to have some kind of reflective plastic over it. Maybe if we take screen shots and magnify them we can read the plate.”
Denton tapped some keys on her computer and magnified the video, but she couldn’t see the man’s face or read the car license plate either. Seeing the man she believed to be Wolfe, she said to herself, “Our long lost dynamic duo. The wanted lowlife and his criminal canine companion. How sweet it is. My promotion is a done deal thanks to you losers.”
Denton stood up and called out to the cops in the room, “We’ve got positive ID of Wolfe on CCTV. Damn, I’m good.”
The video appeared on all of their displays and went out to the computers on the police car dashboards. Kirby raised his eyebrows because Denton had lied about the positive ID. She was gambling and betting on this, but since Kirby was her partner he went along with her.
“Now to close the net on those criminals,” Denton said. “Their asses are mine. Maybe Wolfe will resist arrest or pull a weapon. That would make my day.”
The cuts on Denton’s arm throbbed as she imagined shooting the evil man and his filthy animal.
Police cars converged on the six-block area around the bar. Their orders were to find a black limousine. However there were always dozens of limos crisscrossing the city at any time of day.
Kirby worked on the computer for a bit and then said, “I’ve got some of the plate.”
“Send it out to all units.”
A few minutes later an officer driving an unmarked car radioed in and said, “I’m following a limousine right now that matches the partial on the license plate. My automatic license plate reader camera got a positive ID on the plate when I was passing by in the other direction. I did a U-turn and now I’m behind them, but hanging back a few cars.”
“Keep them in sight but don’t get too close or pull them over, we want to get them surrounded,” Denton said.
“Copy that, here is my current location.” The officer recited the cross streets and direction of travel.
Denton grabbed her jacket. “Let’s roll. He’s close by, and I want to take him down myself.”
She ran out the door with Kirby following close behind.
Everett, the Homicide Detail squad boss, scratched his chin in thought for a moment. He then followed Denton to the parking area. This was an important arrest. Everyone in America would see the news about it. He’d tag along and make sure it was handled correctly.
In the limousine, Jake sat in the back seat, hidden behind the dark tinted windows. He spoke to the driver. “Thanks for giving me a ride, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. If Big Mo says to pick you up, that’s what I do.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’ll drive to an oil change business. You’ll get out while the car is parked in the service bay, and you’ll go down into the pit below. Then you’ll climb up and get into another car that is parked in the next bay.
“Switching cars, good idea.”
“Look underneath the carpeted floor pad beneath your feet. You’ll see an interesting surprise. It’s something I came up with myself.”
Jake lifted up the removable square of carpet and looked underneath. “Very nice, I’m impressed.”
The driver nodded. “The other car has one just like it. Works like a charm.”
They traveled for a while, sticking to the posted speed limit and not attracting any attention. The driver said, “Don’t worry about the police. The average cop in this city couldn’t find his own dick in the dark.”
At that moment, an armored car pulled out of an alley, got in front of the limousine and stopped. The limo driver had to slam on his brakes to avoid crashing into it.
Next, a black SUV pulled up behind the limo and pressed right up against the rear bumper. The armored car backed up a few feet until it was pressed against the limo’s front bumper.
In just a few seconds the limo had been pinned in between the two vehicles and trapped. Two gun ports on the back of the armored car opened, and two assault rifle barrels poked out, aimed at the limousine’s windshield. Parked on the left of the limo was a black GMC Yukon. The roof opened, and a turret rose up that held a man and a mounted machine gun pointed at the limo driver.
Police in riot gear ran up and surrounded the limo and trained their weapons on it. A voice was heard over a loudspeaker saying, “This is Sergeant Denton with the San Francisco Police. We have you surrounded. Come out of the vehicle with your hands up.”
Nobody exited the limousine. Denton approached the driver’s window and rapped on it with the barrel of her pistol. The driver opened the window about a quarter of an inch.
Denton said, “You must be Dick. Wow I found you and it’s not even dark.”
The driver realized they must have eavesdropping lasers pointed at the car windows and could hear what was said inside. He answered in Italian, “Non parlano inglese,” and raised his window.
Denton grabbed a sledgehammer out of a vehicle. She swung it hard against the window, but the big hammer just bounced off of the bulletproof glass. The driver’s hand appeared pressed against the darkened glass, giving Denton the middle finger.
Denton cursed and said, “Get the Jaws of Life and rip open the car door.”
A policeman approached with the Jaws of Life and proceeded to open the driver’s door the way a can opener t
ears open a metal can. In moments, the door was torn off, and the driver could be seen sitting there calmly with his hands on the steering wheel. He had a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
Denton grabbed the driver by the scruff of his collar and pulled him roughly out of the car. She pushed him face down onto the pavement, pressing her pistol against the back of his neck. The man had somehow managed to keep his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. With his cheek against the ground he let out a long plume of smoke and gave Denton a big smile. Denton stomped the cigarette out and nearly crushed the man’s lips and nose along with it. He spit out the cigarette butt, smiled cheerfully and said, “Go screw yourself.”
“Cover him,” Denton said.
An officer pressed the barrel of an assault rifle against the driver’s head. The driver winked at the cop and grinned, showing no fear. Denton pressed a button in the limo to unlock all of the doors. She then pulled open the back passenger door, holding her pistol up and ready to put a bullet into Jake Wolfe’s face.
To Denton’s surprise, the back seat was empty. She pressed another button and popped the trunk, opened it with her gun drawn, but found it empty too. She was getting angry now as she pulled up the cover over the spare tire and looked underneath. Next, she returned to the back seat and pulled up the seat cushion. Somehow, someway, Wolfe and his dog had vanished.
Everett the homicide detail squad boss was supervising the fugitive apprehension. He walked over to the limousine and looked inside. “What have you got here Denton?”
Denton stood up straight and said, “We have the limo that picked up the fugitive Jake Wolfe in an alley near Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“Do you have the fugitive or just the limo driver?”
“At the moment, we only have the driver but…”
“Then you don’t have a damn thing,” Everett said.
“Wolfe was in this vehicle but he escaped somehow. This isn’t over yet.”
Denton started ripping at the floor coverings. The carpet in the foot well came loose and exposed a trap door in the floor. She pulled it open and looked down to see an open manhole in the street below the car. “Get this limo backed up, he went out through the floor and into the sewer.”
Everett looked at the trap door and raised his eyebrows, then looked at the driver lying on the ground. The driver grinned at him and shrugged modestly. He didn’t want to brag, but that trapdoor he’d thought up had fooled them all.
Terrell Hayes arrived on the scene. He walked up to the limo and said, “What’s the situation?
Everett gestured at the back seat, and Terrell saw the open trapdoor. The vehicle behind the limo backed up, and a cop got into the limo and backed it up too, exposing the open manhole cover. Terrell looked at the hole in the street, turned to Everett and said only one word, “Wolfe?”
Everett nodded and tried not to laugh. Terrell did too. He looked down at the manhole and clamped his teeth closed to keep from laughing out loud and causing Everett to laugh along with him. If there was one sure thing about Jake Wolfe, the man could definitely be entertaining. Terrell was glad that he and Jake had taken Everett fishing recently on Dylan’s boat. They’d drank beer, smoked cigars, caught fish, told funny stories and had a great time. But they’d never mentioned it to anyone. Everett had thoroughly enjoyed himself and he’d made Jake promise that they’d go fishing again soon.
Denton saw Terrell and she got in his face. “You were talking to this fugitive on the phone not long ago. Did you help him escape from us?”
Terrell gave her his battle stare. He had a lot of female friends but Denton would never be one of them. “No I was trying to talk him into coming into the station. But you found him, good work. Now follow him down into the sewer. Go get him tiger.”
Everett was aware of the bad chemistry between these two. He decided a team building exercise was in order.
“Both of you go down in the sewer,” Everett said. “You’ll each do a search in opposite directions. That way it will get done twice as fast.”
Terrell looked at the squad boss for a long moment and said, “Down there, underground?”
Everett nodded. “Yeah, get going.”
Chapter 82
Terrell motioned at the hole in the street and said to Denton, “Ladies first. This is your operation.”
Denton scowled. “You go first, you’re his friend.”
Terrell walked toward the manhole. “Okay if you’re afraid, I’ll lead the way.”
Several cops laughed and Terrell acted like he couldn’t care less about climbing down the ladder into the dark and foul smelling tunnel. The truth was, not many situations could rattle Terrell’s nerves, but closed-in suffocating places with no fresh air were among his least favorite things. He wasn’t quite claustrophobic but pretty close to it. Okay, very close to it.
The sewer’s overhead lights were not working, and it was so dark below the street that Terrell could hardly see anything. He flicked his Zippo lighter to shed some light on the area. His eyes were big and round as he looked to his left and then to his right. Strangely, the walls of the ladder shaft seemed to be moving in a circular motion. Upon closer inspection he realized with disgust that the walls were completely covered by a swarm of cockroaches, all running in a clockwise direction.
One very large cockroach ran across Terrell’s hand that was holding onto the iron ladder rung. He cursed in surprise, jerked his hand away and dropped the remaining few feet to the tunnel floor. He accidentally dropped his lighter in the process. The lighter went out, leaving him in the darkness again. In the still and quiet of the dark sewer, he could hear the rustling sound of the hundreds of multi-legged crawling insects scurrying across the dank cement walls that surrounded him.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light from the open manhole above, and he was able to find his lighter on the filthy floor below his feet. He picked up the lighter, lit it again and stepped into the center of the main tunnel. There was a splash in a puddle near him as a rat ran across his right foot. He cursed again and tried to take a calming breath, but inhaling the thick stench of the sewer air did nothing to soothe his nerves.
Stepping back into the ladder shaft he yelled up toward the street. “Drop me down a flashlight. The overhead lighting isn’t working down here.”
Terrell couldn’t believe he’d come down the ladder without a flashlight. He’d been so unnerved by the idea of going underground that he had completely forgotten to grab one. A moment later a uniformed officer appeared over the rim, turned on a flashlight and dropped it to Terrell. The man grinned and said, “How does it smell down there Lieutenant?”
“It smells like your breath, Finkel,” Terrell said.
The cop laughed and then Denton climbed down the ladder and switched on her flashlight. She shone it down the tunnel in each direction and then glared at Terrell.
“You go right and I’ll go left,” Terrell said.
“No way, that’s what you want me to do; you go right, and I’ll go left.”
“Fine, have it your way,” Terrell said and he scowled, pretending to be angry.
Terrell had wanted to go right anyway so he’d psyched Denton out, knowing she would automatically be opposed to whatever he wanted. Argumentative people were always so predictable with their knee-jerk negative reactions. Psychiatrists had a name for it, but Terrell couldn’t think of it at the moment. Jake had mentioned it once. His psychiatrist sister had said it was Pavlovian opposition and automatic negative thoughts, or something like that. Whatever it was, you could use it to manipulate argumentative people like Denton.
Another rat ran past as both inspectors set off in opposite directions into the tunnels. Terrell walked fast and he wished that he was anywhere else but there. He’d always been in denial about his claustrophobia, but now he felt the irrational fear beginning to crawl up his back. The enclosed space was bad enough, but when you added the non-working lights, the awful smell and the rats and cockroaches, it was a nigh
tmare. He had to use all of his willpower to make himself keep on walking farther away from the manhole and daylight and fresh air.
Terrell hurried down one branch of the tunnel and soon he thought he heard a splash up ahead of him. It might be a rat but he gave a low whistle-signal that Jake would remember from their combat days, and he started to jog toward the sound. The situation left Terrell feeling torn as it pulled him in two different directions. On one hand he had his loyal friendship with Jake, but on the other hand, he had his duty as a police officer.
He came around a curve in the tunnel and saw Jake and Cody about to escape through an access door. It was anybody’s guess where the door might lead to. It could lead to BART, the Bay Area Rapid Transit subway tunnels. It might even be an old escape route from a tavern, left over from the Barbary Coast days, or the prohibition era.
There were also a few secret tunnels underneath Chinatown that led far across the city. Those tunnels had been used in the olden days by the Tong criminal organizations. After the earthquake of 1906, the city residents had rebuilt on top of ruins. That had created some additional pockets of hidden underground areas.
Terrell pointed his flashlight at his face for a moment so Jake could see it was him, and he put a finger to his lips to indicate that Jake should be quiet. Cody sniffed the air but he didn’t growl at Terrell, he recognized his scent. Jake stood next to the door, waiting for his friend to catch up to him.
“You really got yourself into a mess this time,” Terrell said in a low voice.
“Lots of the wrong people are mad at me huh?” Jake said.
“Do you have any idea who impersonated you?”
“Agent McKay told me he is a wanted criminal. An assassin. Probably the same guy who shot those lawyers.”
“Katherine Anderson used to be a prosecuting attorney. She fits the attorney pattern.”
“But what’s the motive behind the pattern?”
“Our guys found a tablet computer in your Jeep,” Terrell said. “It had a lot of downloaded news stories on it about how Katherine once put an innocent man in prison. It makes you look like an angry vigilante seeking retribution.”
